


Empiring 405

by StripedSunhat



Series: Single Father Klaus [17]
Category: Girl Genius (Webcomic)
Genre: Control Issues, Gen, Mime Rebellions (referenced), Mimes, Running the Empire, Trust Issues, Why Gil needs therapy, Why Klaus needs therapy, Why Sparks need therapy, a depressing lack of actual mimes, management
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-03 04:14:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19456141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StripedSunhat/pseuds/StripedSunhat
Summary: Today’s lesson: a practical overview of everything learned so far as well as a warning against the problems with a muddy leadership hierarchy.OrKlaus is still a control freak and Gil's breaking point is apparently mimes.





	Empiring 405

**Author's Note:**

> So my computer started making sparking noises! Yay!!! (oh please shoot me now)  
> The good news is it stopped once it cooled down a little so I was able to send a lot of my writings to myself so even if the worst happens I won’t lose everything. The other good mews is I have access to alternative electronics, hence how I’m able to publish this one. But I[expect a lull until I can get a new laptop. Hopefully in a few days, but who knows.

Gil stared at Klaus. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“I am not.” Leaning back Gil began chewing on the end of the pen he’d been fiddling with. He otherwise didn’t move, eyes focused inward, obviously running through a mental inventory. “What are you doing?” Klaus said.

“Thinking. This has got to be some sort of trick; I’ve just got to figure out how.” He stuck his pen back in his mouth and resumed chewing.

Klaus was not going to sigh. He was not going to sigh. “It’s not a trick. It’s a simple, straightforward assessment of what you’ve learned. That’s the only thing being tested with this exercise.”

“Like you could give up that much control, even still supervising,” Gil said around the pen. He would not sigh.

“I keep such a close eye on so much of the empire because I can’t trust people to handle it. Do try not let yourself get counted as part of that number.”

Gil sheepishly spat out the pen. “Sorry Father.”

“So it’s settled. Tomorrow, under supervision, you shall run the empire.”

“This is going to end so badly,” Gil muttered.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Nothing Father. Just that I… should probably get to bed. Early morning and a long day tomorrow.”

“Too true. Go on then.” He waved a hand toward the bedrooms. “I won’t keep you.”

“Okay. So, um, goodnight.” With the awkward little half-bow half-not Gil always reverted back to when he wasn’t sure what level of formality to use he began shuffling not towards the bedrooms but the door.

“Oh for goodness sake just stay here in your room for tonight. Like you said we have an early morning tomorrow and no time to waste making excuses at the school.”

Gil froze. “My room. Right. My room here. I, um, have one of those. So I should use it. Right. I’ll just – Goodnight Father.” With another even more awkward half-bow he changed direction, heading further into the family quarters in the direction of the bedrooms.

His son was actually spending the night where he belonged for once. This test was already shaping up to be one of Klaus’s better ideas.

* * *

Klaus had laid everything out. He was hardly going to drop his son in the deep end of ruling – he wanted everyone and everything to come out unscathed at the end of this after all. The empire was exceptionally stable. There’d been no rebellions worth mentioning for almost two months and the next one wasn’t predicted for at least another three weeks. No major inspections or overhauls were scheduled and he’d curtailed or postponed at least a dozen of his people’s experiments to cut down on the chance of something exploding. Gil was intelligent, competent and well-trained. He was more than old enough to handle this. And if Klaus desperately wanted some physical, tangible reassurance of Gil’s skills before sending him off all the way to Paris that was his prerogative as a father. Besides, no one needed to know that part.

They started the day early. Klaus woke Gil bright and early – a full two hours earlier than he normally started his days. It would be a good experience for Gil, get him prepared ahead of time for the days the madness decided to start early.

“You do not get up this early,” Gil grumbled when Klaus unceremoniously dumped him out of bed.

“The barony is an all-consuming job Gil. Just because you don’t see me doesn’t mean I’m not up and working.”

“I know you don’t because there’ve been four explosions and three assassination attempts that I’ve been involved in at this exact time when they’ve have to wake you up.”

“You’re basing your conclusions on seven isolatedincidents within ten years of observation?”

“Fine! Okay, empiring starts this early. Let’s just go.”

The first item on the schedule was a joint meeting with both the generals and advisors to go over the state of the empire. Klaus might not want to throw Gil in the deep end but that didn’t mean he planned on going easy on him.

Klaus and Gil walked into the room and the bickering they’d been able to hear through the door died off as everyone turned their respectful attention to Klaus. “Herr Baron,” one of the generals said.

“Oh no, not me,” Klaus said. He found a seat against the wall and sprawled casually across it. ‘I told you yesterday I’m not running things today, Gilgamesh is.”

As one every eye turned to focus on Gil. Gil shifted on the balls of his feet. Opening with a sign of nervousness, never good. They’d have to keep working on that. He rallied quick enough, saying in a firm, no nonsense tone that made clear who in the room was in charge, “Right. I want a full report on the state of things. The mime uprising near Stumm. It’s a long way from being a real threat so no you’re not getting your air strike, deal with it. They are however rather close to one of our information lines and risk disturbing it if they aren’t checked, so we’ll start there. Have they said what they want yet?” He loomed expectantly over the table, adding before anyone could say anything, “And the first person to make a ‘mimes don’t speak’ joke is getting thrown out the window.” At least three mouths clicked shut.

It went smoothly from there for about thirty minutes before the topic of the requisition of custard inevitably came up.

“Your troops do not need that much custard!”

“It boosts morale! My men have been the first line putting down every petty rebellion the empire’s dealt with for the last eight months. Is it too much to ask for a little dessert?”

“Your men couldn’t be persuaded with a more transportable confection?”

“And have you ever thought about the kitchen staff? Custard takes time and effort. Not to mention all the experiments our cooks keep trying so that your bloody custard will survive long enough to reach you.”

“So give us authorization to commission it from nearby shops. It’ll boost the local economy.”

“How? Through the society of custard makers?”

“Exactly!”

“Have you ever considered some of us might want some too? Quit hogging!”

Gil was trying to rein them back in, so far with no success. “Honestly Gil,” Klaus said, leaning forward, “you’re supposed to be running the meeting, not letting it run you.”

“I’m trying.”

“You’re failing. No one is paying any attention to you.”

“Fine.” With one hand Gil reached out and knocked over a rear by lamp, setting the table on fire.

“That is not what I meant!”

“My models! I spent weeks working on those!”

“It got their attention, didn’t it?”

“Save the maps!”

“I meant as an authority figure, not as a madman who randomly sets fire to tables!”

“Forget the maps, save the custard!”

“Well you didn’t specify! You just said attention!”

“Hy _liek_ de vay Gil runs tings!”

“Eet’s much more fun dan normal meetings!”

“Baked custard! That’s it!”

* * *

Klaus will be perfectly honest, he has no idea how Gil got the meeting back on track. Despite sitting right there, in the room at the time, watching it happen, he has no clue how Gil did it. But somehow he did and the rest of the meeting not only finished, it went smoothly too. Or as smoothly as one could possibly expect of these things. Klaus was actually impressed. Of course they still had the entire rest of the day to get through.

“Well that was... something,” Gil said as the last of the room filed out.

“Welcome to politics.”

“Technically speaking,” Boris said, Gatling up the reports, “that was significantly more productive than usual for these meetings. Although might I ask, Gil that you give me warning next time you plan on setting the table on fire so that I can get my notes off of it first?”

“We both know those noes weren’t important,” Gil said. “You just had them to look busier and more important than the other advisors. It’s a trick you picked up from Jacob from when he didn’t want other people to bother him.” Boris’s right eyebrow twitched. “So the next stop should probably be the spymaster’s office, see how our spies are doing and if there’s anything new we should know about that.”

“Hold that thought,” Klaus said before Gil could escape. “A trip to the spymaster’s office is guaranteed to waste at least an hour. Besides which they are largely self sufficient and will notify us of any immediate problems. Better to start with the quartermaster to get a report of any internal problems before you start looking for problems elsewhere.”

“Fine,” Gil said through gritted teeth. “Next stop the quartermaster’s office, _then_ the spymaster’s”

* * *

The trip to the quartermaster’s office went smooth enough, although Klaus did have to step in when Gil tried to delegate a problem to the engineers on level seventeen rather than the technicians on level nineteen. The trio yielded a few headaches that needed sorting immediately, but nothing too horrendous.

First stop, troop uniform supply number 8.

“What do you mean the brocade is missing?”

“It’s missing! All of it! It was here last night and now it’s gone! We still have to outfit the 44th!”

“Right, have you asked the other supply rooms if they have any spare brocade?”

“Um...”

“I can’t believe th- Someone go check the other supply rooms!” He turned to Boris. “44th, that’s ground troops stationed at the northern border of the wasteland right?”

“Yes sir, along with the 45th and 47th.”

“Where?s the 46th?”

“Missing. Probably either eaten or on unauthorized vacation.”

“Have someone find out. I want either funerals or reprimands within the week.”

“Of course sir.”

“Now, if the other rooms have extra you’ll use it for the higher ranking officers in the 44th. If they don’t have the 45th and 47th’s outfits reoutfitted so the foot soldiers do t have any decorative braid and use the brocade from there to outfit the higher ranking officers from the 44th.”

“Of course si-”

“Wait,” Klaus said, stepping forward.

“Yes, Herr Baron?”

“It the other rooms have extra by all means do that. Otherwise switch to the alternative uniform for the higher officers. No reason to have to redo two troops worth of uniforms.” He shot a pointed look toward Gil, who crossed his arms.

“Forgive me for wanting all the troops in the area to be able to recognize a higher officer in a panic.”

“You’re forgiven. Now come on, we’ve still got a lot left to do.”

* * *

The problems with engine room 5 and labs 16, 27 and 4 went much the same way. Gil’s solutions tended to be good, just... incomplete. It was no excuse for the funk he was in by the time they started towards the spymaster’s office.

“Herr Baron! I mean, um, sir!” A messenger came running up, visibly course correcting towards Gil. “The mime rebellion, they-”

“General von Ripper is dealing with them. Go bother him. And remind him no airstrikes!” Gil pushed past him towards the office, Boris discretely gathering a copy of the minions report as he passed. Good. He’d let Gil know if somehow it ended up being a development that actually required his attention.

“Herr Baron, Herr Wulfenbach,” the spymaster said as they entered. “I was expecting you earlier.”

“We got waylaid. What do you have to report?”

“The Organization of the Sacred Torch, they’ve begun moving towards-”

“Belay that,” Klaus cut them off. “Have it sent to my quarters tonight.”

“Father I thought you’d read me in on all the issues in the empire. You know, so I could run things, like I’m _supposed_ to today.”

“I didn’t expect the Society to make their move yet.” He turned to Gil who was leaning - quite unprofessionally - against the wall. “I believe you’re up Gilgamesh.”

“Oh you do want me to take over, I wasn’t sure if we were still doing that.” Klaus pinched the bridge of his nose and very deliberately did not sigh. “That is your job for the day.”

With a sigh - what right did _Gil_ have to sigh? - Gil pushed off the wall and stepped forward. “Anything else we should know about?”

“No. Other than the Society it’s been really boring. I don’t suppose you’d let me stir something up, make it more interesting?’

“No.”

“No?”

**“No.”**

The spymaster turned towards Klaus with a pleading look. Klaus purposefully leaned back against the wall is the casual sprawl Gil had recently abandoned. “I’m not in charge today.”

“Well if there’s nothing else, we’ll be leaving.”

Klaus hung back to get back to get further details on the Society, making sure it wasn’t so big a problem that he had to take back things and deal with it immediately. When he slipped out Gil was waving away a minion.

“Mimes,” He said by way of explanation. “They know General von Ripper is dealing with it, why do they keep coming to me with it?”

“Welcome to being in charge. They’re always going to come to you.”

“It’s moments like these that make me wish I really was an orphan of no consequence or importance.”

“Technically I haven’t officially recognized you so if you’re not careful you might remain that.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Gil said with a tired smile. Klaus smiled back.

The peaceful moment was shattered when the wall next to them exploded.

A giant gorilla stood in the newly made hole. A barrel marked as blasting jelly was held in one giant paw. A figure appeared on top of the gorilla’s head. “Herr Baron!” Professor Miyamoto yelled from his spot atop the gorilla. “You stopped my project! You stopped all my projects! But I figured it out!”

“Figured what out?” Klaus said.

“I thought Professor Miyamoto was working with donkeys,” Gil hissed.

“He was,” he heard Boris say. “The Baron shut his project down yesterday.”

Professor Miyamoto Let out a gleeful cackle. “What you wanted me to do Herr Baron! You wanted it bigger! I was thinking too small! But I fixed that! Donkeys, I was never going to get anywhere with them. But gorillas, with them I CAN SHOW THE WHOLE WORLD!!”

The gorilla threw the barrel. Gil darted forward, leaping over the barrel. Klaus followed him, grabbing him by the back of the collar. “Stay back Gil.”

“But this is the one thing I know how to do!”

“Yes, yes, you can take back over after I’m finished. In the meantime stay back.”

* * *

For the record, fighting a giant gorilla armed with a seemingly unlimited stockpile of barrels of explosives was not easy. Especially while in an airship. Professor Miyamoto would definitely be continuing his research in a ground based lab. By the time Klaus was finished he was in desperate need of a shower. He left Gil still pouting about not getting to fight a giant monkey to deal with the first wave of the daily avalanche of paperwork while he got cleaned up.

“You could have let me handle the fight,” Gil said she he entered the room. Still pouting then.

“Part of being in charge is delegating things.” He leaned over to look at the files spread across the table.

“I’ve been helping you with paperwork for literally years now. I think I know what I’m doing.”

“The. How do you explain this?” Klaus plucked a report on proposed schedule changes to supply lines from Gil’s hand. “Clearly ten o’c Is infinitely better than ten-thirty.” Gil dropped his head onto the table. “You’re going to fall behind if you keep messing around.”

* * *

Eventually Gil managed to make a big enough dent in the mountain of paperwork to take a sanity break disguised as a walk through inspection of the main hanger. Gil strode through the room, Boris a half-step behind him, right beside Klaus.

“Herr Baron!”

“Herr Baron!” Downside to leaving ever your office, everyone immediately swarmed you. Klaus hung further back another half-step.

“Herr Ba- Sir!” A messenger ran up, visibly course correcting to go over to Gil.

“What?” Gil snarled, wheeling to face him. The poor young man quailed, clutching his sheath of papers to his chest. Boris ca,e forward and retrieved them, leaving him with nothing.

“It’s, um... the mime rebellion, they -”

“Bomb ‘em.”

The minion blinked. “What?”

Boris paused, pen halfway to the page. “What?”

“You heard me. General von Ripper wanted his air srike, let’s give it to him. Bomb all of it.” Gil leaned back on his heels, clearly waiting for something. Boris snuck a hesitant glance at Klaus.

Oh so it was going to be like that. Two could play that game. “You heard him. Not what I would have done but I’m not in charge today. If that’s what he's decided I guess we’re bombing them.”

Gil nearly fell over where he was standing. “WHAT?” he yelled. “Of all the times you’ve taken over today _this_ is the one time you decide to step back?”

“You have to remember your actions have consequences.”

Unfortunately for Gil - and the rest of the empire he supposed, mainly Gil - the minion has fled as soon as he had concrete orders. Which meant Gil had to chase him down through more than half the airship. Even more unfortunately for Gil - and again the empire as a whole but mostly Gil - by the time he caught him he’d already passed the order on to General von Ripper. So Gil had to chase _him_ down. It ended with Gil literally tackling General von Ripper, yelling st the top of his lungs as he fought him, “YOU’VE BEEN GIVEN FAULTY INTEL!! YOU STILL DON’T GET AN AIRSTRIKE!!”

“I WAS GIVEN AUTHORIZATION! FIRE ON ALL MIMES!!”

“BELAY THAT! **BELAY THAT!!** THOSE ORDER WERE MISINTERPRETED!!”

“Right,” Gil said after he finally physically knocked the General unconscious. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”

* * *

It took Gil three hours to bang out a plan for peace talks with the mime rebellion (caveat on mime jokes still firmly in place). 

“Not a bad solution,” Klaus said as General von Ripper was carted away, “but next time try making it without the dramatics.”

Gil glared at him. “You could have overridden it like you’ve done with literally every other decision I’ve made today.”

“And you could have offered up a solution you knew wouldn’t end in bloodshed and screaming.”

“Right, fine,” Gil groused, storming ahead. He barged into Klaus’s office and threw himself at the table “Let’s just mark this test as the failure it was and move one.”

“Nonsense. Overall you’re doing quite well.”

Gil slumped over at the table and buried his head in his folded arms. “I just want you to know that I hate you.”

Klaus picked up the newest reports, freshly delivered just a minute ago. “That’s nice. It’s barely six o’clock; your day’s hardly over.”

“I’m handing the empire over to the next conspiracy with an even half-way sane and competent figurehead.”

Klaus didn’t bother looking up from the reports. “Good luck finding one.”


End file.
